


Orange

by mamamoofic, Pupthemedurl



Category: Mamamoo
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-10
Updated: 2018-09-10
Packaged: 2019-07-10 13:01:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 15,431
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15949883
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mamamoofic/pseuds/mamamoofic, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pupthemedurl/pseuds/Pupthemedurl
Summary: Solar is a physician at a psychiatric hospital. Her work so far has been mainly uneventful until the arrival of a possible sociopath who seems to know more about Solar than she's comfortable with.





	Orange

Yongsun’s not sure what to think as she walks down the hall, glancing down at the manila folder in her hand.

Her heels echo at a rushed pace, a quick succession of click-clack resounding in the otherwise empty halls. The stark white of the walls fails to impact her, even as the bright lights cast a near blinding glow on the space. She’d been given only a brief synopsis of her new assignment, so she uses the long walk to review the case.

In her hand is the file for her newest patient, Jung Wheein, assigned to her team this morning. It included some general information, enough to know that she’s younger and a bit smaller than her. The file also included a mugshot, and Yongsun couldn’t help but feel bad for her. Her eyes look so sad and scared, as if she doesn’t fully grasp whatever happened to her.

When Yongsun asked why she was here, the psychiatrists said she was suspected of burning her apartment down with her boyfriend inside. The court found her not guilty, but given the testimony of the criminologists, they did speculate that she’s a sociopath. No two people could agree on an exact diagnosis, so it was recommended she come here to Springhill Center for confirmation and possible treatment.

She really doesn’t know what to think when she stands outside her new patient’s room, the sound of muffled crying emanating from within. She looks back down at her file in utter disbelief, then back at the door. Maybe she went to the wrong room. Maybe this is the wrong patient. She flips to another paper and confirms that she is in fact at the right place; Room 417. Cautiously, she knocks on the door, waiting for a response. When she receives none, she presses her ID above the knob and slowly opens the door.

“Is this Ms. Jung? Jung Wheein?” She asks tentatively, awkwardly stepping into the room. The patient looks up sharply, startled. The doctor notices how soft her features look in person. Her eyes, while puffy and red with tears, seem to hold a delicate charm. Her round face, while obscured by her messy black bob, seems almost pliable with how soft it looks. And her lips, while trembling like the rest of her body, form an endearing pout. She wants nothing more than to rush over and coddle her, but she doesn’t want to startle her.

“Are you Jung Wheein?” Yongsun tries again, and her need to rush over and comfort her shines through in her voice.

The patient, Wheein, nods so subtly Yongsun almost misses it, wiping away tears with the tissue in her hand, “Who are you?”

“My name is Dr. Kim,” She tells her, keeping her voice soft, “I’m here to make sure you’re ok.”

Wheein looks up at her with something akin to fascination, looking her up and down before staring into her eyes. She doesn’t blink, as if she doesn’t want to miss a single moment. Her tears continue to flow, but she makes no move to wipe them away, gaze transfixed on the doctor.

“Why are you crying?” Yongsun asks carefully, breaking the silence. Wheein seems to be brought back to reality after hearing her voice, occupying herself with the tissue in her hands.

“I’m just scared. You never hear good things about places like this. I always hear how badly they treat patients, how they lock people up in padded rooms, how people scream at all hours of the night. They might as well have sent me to jail, this is the same thing!” Her cries quickly turn into sobs as she exclaims, and she grips her tissue so tightly it begins to tear.

Impulsively, Yongsun approaches her, throwing caution to the wind and wrapping her arms around her. She tried to hold herself back, but she couldn’t help herself. Seeing her trembling, looking more scared than she’s ever seen any patient, she just wanted her to know she was there to help. The patient seems to appreciate the gesture, leaning into her embrace.

The doctor’s voice is soothing as she holds her, “Whatever you heard, it’s not like that here. Here at Springhill, we don’t do any of those things you’re afraid of. See, look,”

Yongsun gestures to the room, her hand pointing out the desk and chair in the corner, the large curtained window on the opposite wall and the dresser near the closet across from them, emphasizing just how much space is available. Softly, she asks, “The rooms were designed to look like bedrooms, to make sure our patients are comfortable. Does this seem scary to you?”

The gentle tone of her voice relaxes Wheein a bit. Cautiously, she looks around the room, noticing the things Yongsun pointed out. Her gaze lingers on the smooth, tan wood of the floor, as well as the subtle cream tint of the walls. After a few moments she shakes her head, sniffling slightly.

“And look at what you’re wearing,” Yongsun comments, which prompts Wheein to look down at her street clothes, “Do your clothes seem scary to you?”

Once again, Wheein shakes her head, her body still trembling with unease.

“You’re a patient, so our goal is to make sure you’re as comfortable as possible while you get the help you need.” Yongsun tells her with a smile, hoping it would help calm her down. It seems to work as the sniffling comes to a complete halt.

The doctor lets Wheein have a few more moments to calm down before asking gently, “I’d like to examine you now if that’s ok.”

Wheein nods, shifting to sit up straight as Yongsun puts on her stethoscope. “I need you to move your shirt up,” Yongsun instructs. Wheein complies, lifting her shirt a bit to allow the doctor to press the metal end to her back. She instructs her to breathe deeply, noting that aside from the shakiness associated with unease, her airways are clear. She takes the rest of her vitals, noting that all of them are normal. From a physical standpoint, there’s nothing wrong with her.

Before Yongsun closes the door she turns back to the patient and asks, “Is there anything I can get for you?”

“Yes, some water please. I’m a bit dehydrated.” Wheein tells her, adding on a quick, “Thanks doctor.”

“Not a problem. I’ll have the nurse bring you some.”

As she shuts the door, Yongsun frowns to herself. Of course she was found not guilty. There’s no way the woman she just tended to intended to hurt anyone. The woman she saw in there can’t be a sociopath. They must be wrong. Not her. Not Wheein.

* * *

Yongsun volunteers to be her designated physician, regularly checking her vitals and making sure she’s generally healthy. She argues that regular contact can help her open up a bit more during therapy, which she still struggled with. Byulyi, her psychiatrist, says she’s on the farther end of the antisocial personality spectrum, but exactly where is still up in the air. Byulyi did warn her to keep her distance, fearing she could show a pattern of manipulative behavior. But so far, Wheein hasn’t so much as raised a red flag in Yongsun’s eyes.

“So, how do you like it here?” Yongsun asks offhandedly, putting her clipboard down as she puts her stethoscope on.

Wheein doesn’t say anything, deciding instead on a slight shrug. She’s still a bit standoffish, Yongsun notes, but she’s probably just nervous. It tends to take people a while to fully adjust to the hospital.

“Did you make any friends?” Again, no verbal response; just a quick shake of the head.

“Well, don’t worry about it too much. There’s lots of great people here, if you just give them a chance.” The doctor assures her, pressing the stethoscope to the patient’s chest. A rush falls on the room as the Yongsun makes note of her strong, steady heartbeat.

“What made you want to be a doctor?” Wheein pipes up curiously, making Yongsun pause for a moment. Aside from meek requests for water, this is the first time she’s really heard her voice. It’s even and without much inflection, yet it sounds so soft and pleasant. Yongsun subtly desires to hear more.

Yongsun grins as she replies, “I’ve always wanted to help people, and for me, this is the best way to do it.”

“Yes, helping people,” Wheein mutters, and there’s a pause as Yongsun writes some numbers down. Once their eyes meet, Wheein flatly asks, “Now why here in a nuthouse?”

“This certainly isn’t a nuthouse, or anything like that,” Yongsun shakes her head, “But to answer your question, I help those who I think need it most. People who just need to be given a chance.”

The patient hums, mulling over her words before she remarks, “You have a thing for helping people, don’t you?”

“Yes, of course. It’s my job, and I love my job.” Yongsun states, and she can’t help her widening smile. There’s something about taking care of others that genuinely makes her happy.

“Yes, and you’ll do anything to make sure your patients are well taken care of, won’t you?” Wheein’s tone takes on a slight lilt, but it’s enough for Yongsun to take notice. It’s certainly more expression that she’s heard from her in the last two weeks.

“What’re you implying?” Yongsun inquires cautiously, slowly draping the stethoscope over her neck.

“I’m not implying anything. You just seem like someone who cares greatly about your patients. I mean, you spend time with me and make sure I’m comfortable. You even made sure I got extra pillows when I asked.” There’s a pause where Wheein just stares at Yongsun, her gaze bordering apathy as she asks, “Why, what did you think I meant?”

“What about you, Wheein?” Yongsun quickly changes the subject, holding the clipboard close to her chest, “If you could be anywhere right now, doing whatever you want, what would it be?”

At this, Wheein smiles, and it’s the first time Yongsun’s seen her smile since she’s been in her care. It’s slight, but it’s genuinely cute to see her face light up like this. The dimple on her right cheek makes her look particularly adorable. Her tone shifts from somewhat dull to positively lively as she explains, “I’d probably be outside sketching. Or I’d be in a studio painting. Or I’d be in an art supply store, picking out something I never tried before.”

“Oh, you’re an artist?” Yongsun wonders aloud, now genuinely interested. Wheein never opened up like this before, and she’s eager to hear more.

“I am. I find playing with colors so fulfilling, don’t you?” Wheein looks up at her expectantly, a hopeful glint in her eyes.

“Personally no,” Yongsun admits, quickly adding, “Art is pretty, don’t get me wrong, but I’m not really into it.”

Wheein makes a sound of disappointment, pursing her lips, “Why not? Colors make up our world, and art is essentially playing with and manipulating colors. Now what could be more fulfilling than manipulating the world?”

Wheein makes it sound like she has complete control over her surroundings, and the idea makes Yongsun frown in thought. It’s an interesting take, to say the least, and she wonders how the patient came to such a conclusion. Perhaps it’s a coping mechanism for something in her past, or it’s simply a unique worldview. Unsure of how to respond, Yongsun eventually settles on, “I never thought of it that way. Maybe you can expand on this idea in therapy. I’m sure Dr. Moon would love to hear about this.”

“Are you sure?” Wheein wonders warily, “All she wants to do is talk about The Event.”

The Event. That’s how Wheein referred to the incident that brought her here. According to Byulyi, she still hasn’t opened up about what happened.

“What have you told her so far?” Yongsun presses carefully, not wanting to strike a nerve.

“That the fire was an accident. That’s all she needs to know.” Wheein remarks in a matter of fact tone, shrugging and glancing at her feet. A subtle air of gloom shrouds her, and Yongsun can’t imagine what could be going through her head right now. The bright woman she just saw completely vanished, replaced with something far more somber. She secretly hopes she can see more of the woman who spoke so passionately about art, with a light in her eyes that could only be described as a flame.

“I understand that you may not be comfortable talking about it yet. You’ve only been here for a short time, so baby steps are fine for now.” Yongsun assures her, resisting the urge to smother her in an embrace.

“Thanks doctor,” Wheein mumbles, looking up at her with a slight grin, “I’m glad you understand.”

As she opens the door to leave, Yongsun turns back to Wheein and asks, “Is there anything I can get for you?”

“Actually, can you get me something from the vending machine? I’ve really been craving some of those peppermint chocolates.” Wheein requests, an almost coy slyness added to her voice. It would be off putting if it wasn’t so...charming.

Yongsun thinks it over for a moment before telling her, “I’ll be back.”

This time, she doesn’t leave the nurse to bring her what she requested. Yongsun goes back to Wheein’s room herself and gives her the treat, pressing a finger to her lips. “Don’t tell anyone I gave you this. We’re technically not supposed to bring back snacks to the rooms.”

“Of course not, doctor,” Wheein affirms, mirroring her gesture, “It’ll be our little secret.”

* * *

“You have an older sister, don’t you?”

The question came suddenly, in the middle of her exam. Yongsun doesn't know what surprised her more; the fact that she knew, or the fact that this is the first time she spoke today.

“I do, actually,” Yongsun’s reply is tentative, her movements slowing as she wraps the band around her arm to check her blood pressure, “How did you know?

Wheein shrugs and remarks nonchalantly, “It seems like you got away with some things, being the youngest an all.”

“I don’t know about got away with.” Yongsun dismisses with a slight chuckle, pressing the button to activate the machine, “What makes you think that?”

“You probably used to get away with things when you were younger, which is why you can get away with things now.” Wheein comments casually, her gaze holding a conversational sense of interest.

“I’m no stranger to sneaking an extra snack or two, y’know,” Yongsun quips jokingly, glancing at the numbers as they change.

The patient’s expression doesn’t change as she says, “Yes, I do know. In fact, you’re no stranger to sneaking around at all. Isn’t that right doctor?”

“What are you referring to?” Yongsun questions cautiously, a slight frown furrowing her brows.

Wheein pauses for an almost uncomfortably long time before pointing to her white coat, “The extra cookies in your pocket, of course.”

The machine beeps, bringing the doctor back to reality. After writing down the numbers, Yongsun looks down at her pockets with an awkward chuckle, shaking her head before asking, “Well, that’s it for today. All your readings are normal. Is there anything I can get for you?”

That cute smile she’s seen before returns as Wheein requests, “Can you get me something to draw with? I haven’t done any art since before The Event.”

“There are art supplies in the rec room if you want.” Yongsun tells her, removing the band from around her arm, “We’ve got a lot to choose from.”

“I tried those, but it’s just not the same. No offense, but crayola won’t exactly cut it.” Wheein comments, leaning back against the pillow as she continues, “I want something like I used to have. Something that’s just for me. Back when I really did art, I found supplies that were perfect for my needs.”

That bright, fiery passion returned as she explains, and Yongsun finds herself drawn to it. She wants to bask in this brightness more, so she asks her, “Y’know what? Let me see what I can do for you. What did you use to have?”

“Are you sure, doctor? They can get really expensive, and I don’t want to impose.” Wheein frowns, a concerned pout pursing her lips.

“Don’t worry about the cost. I am a doctor after all,” Yongsun assures her with a lighthearted chuckle, “Just describe what your art setup looked like.”

Wheein perks up excitedly, her words quick with enthusiasm as she speaks, “Well, on my desk, I had leather bound sketchbooks. Of course there were one or two spiral ones on the other side, in case I needed to rip pages out. Let’s see, the micron pens were in the top right corner by the lamp, a pack of different sizes for different linework. Classic wood pencils worked best for sketching, since it matched the wood of the colored pencils. Lets see, I remember I had a pack of at least seventy two, but there were more shades than I could imagine. Both of those would be on the other side, away from the pens, with the colored ones towards the center. And of course, I can’t forget the erasers. The white ones always worked better than the pink, and those stayed by the pencils. That was it, I think. I didn’t need anything more than that for drawing; just the image in my head, and the supplies.”

Yongsun takes diligent notes on her phone as she lists the art supplies, noting any brand names she mentioned and nodding once she’s written them all down, “Got it. I’ll bring these to you as soon as I can.”

“Thanks, doctor. You’re the best.” Wheein beams, bounding over to her and pulling her into a hug. Yongsun can barely register the gesture, and her mind goes completely blank when she feels a kiss press against her cheek. Wheein pulls back sheepishly, hands resting ever so lightly on Yongsun’s waist. Yongsun simply blinks rapidly, stunned to stillness.

“Sorry, I just got excited, that’s all. You have no idea how much I love to draw.” Wheein bounces slightly on the balls of her feet, and Yongsun can’t find it in her to push her away.

“That’s...quite alright,” Yongsun mutters, still frozen in shock. Reluctantly, she takes Wheein’s hands off of her waist, nodding affirmatively, “As long as you’re happy, I’m happy,”

Wheein grins cutely, “Seriously doctor, you’re the best. Thank you so much.”

Yongsun looks up some of what she said as she leaves the room. Wheein wasn’t lying; the prices added up fairly quickly. But if it means she’ll be happy, and it’ll help her in the long run, then it’s more than worth it. She tries to tell herself this is for Wheein to open up in therapy, but she can’t fight the giddy smile on her face. She swears she can still feel the warmth of Wheein’s lips on her cheek.

* * *

“Wow, these are great.” Wheein holds a sketchbook in her hands, rapidly flipping through the pages. Beside her is a box of colored pencils, a wide array of colors neatly arranged in the package. The pencils and pens are on the other side of her, on top of a couple more sketchbooks. Everything is exactly as she described, and Wheein inspects them all excitedly.

“I thought you’d like them,” Yongsun can’t help but smile at her excitement. She definitely made the right call giving these to her on her break. She’s never seen her so bubbly, and it’s easily the most delightful thing she’s ever seen. Something about making her so elated, and knowing _she’s_ the one who made her this happy, is satisfying beyond compare.

“You’re amazing, y’know that? I’ve wanted to draw like this again for so long.” Wheein remarks, holding one of the books close to her chest.

Yongsun wills away her oncoming blush as she instructs, “Now don’t try to take apart the pens. They’re kinda sharp, so they may be taken.”

“You have nothing to worry about. I’ll take good care of these, doctor.” Wheein bounds over to her desk, meticulously arranging her new supplies on the surface.

By the time she’s done, the setup is exactly as she described, with the leather sketchbooks on the right and the spiral ones on the left. The pens go in the corner by the lamp, while the pencils are directly across from them. The colored pencils remain in the middle, the box open so the colors are on full display. And of course, she doesn’t forget the erasers, which stay by the pencils.

“These are perfect,” Wheein sighs wistfully, gingerly holding an orange pencil in her hand.

Observing her now, Wheein seems like a completely different person from who she was just a few months ago. Instead of seeming detached, she’s fully engaged, expressing a range of emotions Byulyi had previously thought impossible for her. Yongsun smiles to herself, knowing that deep down, Byulyi was wrong. Wheein wasn’t a sociopath. Not her. Not her Wheein.

Taking a step forward, Yongsun proposes an idea, “Do you think you would feel better if Dr. Moon let you draw during your therapy sessions?”

“I’d like that,” Wheein nods, turning to her for a moment, “I’d like that a lot.”

“Alright, I’ll see what I can do. Is there anything I can get for you?” Yongsun asks her routine question with a little more enthusiasm, spurred on by Wheein’s lifted mood.

“Just some water,” Wheein replies, flipping open one of the sketchbooks, “Thanks doctor.”

“Of course. I’ll bring you some.”

* * *

Wheein reaches for her sketchbook immediately after Yongsun finishes examining her, pencil in hand and rapidly running along the paper.

“What are you drawing?” Yongsun wonders aloud, peeking over her shoulder. She makes it a point not to get too close. Byulyi said she was further on the spectrum than previously thought, and now there’s talk of Wheein possibly being a psychopath. There’s still a touch of uncertainty, but Byulyi had been firm when talking about the severity of her mental state, warning her to remain professional.

“Just finishing up what I drew in therapy today.” Wheein states, eyes not faltering for a moment as she continues, “It’s a beach at sunset,”

“Oh, she let you draw? How did that go?” Yongsun inquires curiously, smiling to herself. She knows the effect was positive, but she wants to hear it from Wheein herself.

“Dr. Moon seemed pleased I had so much to say. I talked about my childhood, how I got into art, things like that.” Wheein notes offhandedly, far more focused on completing her drawing.

It amazes Yongsun, how Wheein can multitask so easily, and just how much detail is in the drawing already. The blue of the sky morphs into streaks of red and yellow, with the sun on the horizon dying the sand a golden orange tint. The waves seem to lap at the shore before her eyes, hints of white indicating the motion of the otherwise orange-tinted ocean. It’s absolutely beautiful, and Yongsun can practically hear the water moving back and forth at a haphazard yet steady pace.

“Did you talk to her about…?” Yongsun trails off, unsure of how to word her next phrase. She’s unsure if the fire is still a touchy subject.

Wheein picks up on this and laughs softly, speaking before too much silence can pass, “The Event? No, I didn’t.”

“Why not?” Yongsun can’t help the almost demanding tone to her question. Part of the point of this whole thing was to find out what happened that night.

“There’s no reason for her to know, at least not now. Baby steps, right doctor?” Is Wheein’s teasing reply, gaze not faltering for a moment.

Yongsun does recall saying that, but that was back when it was like pulling teeth to get her to speak in therapy. Sighing, Yongsun tells her, “Wheein, you’re supposed to tell Dr. Moon everything you can. It’s the only way we can help you.”

Wheein falls silent for a moment, adamantly shading a section of the sky, before pausing, “I’ll let you in on a secret. It’s something I told Dr. Moon, but I don’t think she got it.”

“What is it?” Yongsun leans in, bracing her hands on the bed beside her.

Putting down her sketchbook, Wheein finally turns to the doctor, their faces mere centimeters apart, “People have colors.”

Yongsun recoils and grimaces in pure confusion, “I’m sorry, what?”

“Don’t you see? Every person, every personality, can be likened to a color. For instance, Dr. Moon, she’s red. Very intense, but she still has a sense of warmth that makes her inviting. Her red is a bit dark, but it’s still so pretty. She’s pretty, don’t you think doctor?”

Yongsun raises a brow, trying in vain to conceal her pout as she asks, “What about me? What’s my color?”

“What do you think it is?” Wheein quickly counters with a tilt of her head.

After a few moments of thought, Yongsun answers with, “I think I’m blue,”

“What kind of blue?” Wheein sits up, looking genuinely intrigued by her response.

“Probably a darker, royal blue,” Yongsun purses her lips as she ponders, gaze shifting a bit as she considers her response.

“Why do you say that?” Wheein shifts so she’s up on her knees, now eye level with the doctor.

“Well, people use blue to mean something sad, but it’s deeper than that. I say a darker blue because… I guess darker means more mysterious. There’s a lot more to it than meets the eye, and only someone who really cares can see that,” Yongsun’s voice becomes somewhat serious as she explains, but she laughs it off with a quick quip, “That probably didn’t even make sense.”

Wheein takes in her explanation and nods slightly, mulling it over before looking into her eyes, “Do you know what I think your color is?”

“What?” Yongsun tries to sound nonchalant, though Wheein’s gaze clearly has an effect on her.

“Orange,” Wheein tells her, as if she was supposed to pick up on that on her own.

“What do you mean?” The doctor asks, taking note of their proximity.

“You’re the perfect combination the passionate intensity of red, and the brightness of yellow. Fun fact, orange is actually the opposite of blue, but they still compliment each other well,” Wheein leans in a bit more, her lips so close to Yongsun’s she can practically feel her smile, “It just so happens that orange is the most beautiful color of them all.”

Yongsun bites her lip nervously at their closeness, but makes no attempt to move away. She simply stares into Wheein’s eyes, captivated by that fiery passion she’s become so drawn to. The patient continues, reaching out to touch her face, “I see so much in you. I see a dazzling shade of orange that rivals the sunrise. I see a brightness that’s unmatched by the sun. I see a warmth that can’t be contained. You seek to share this warmth with as many as possible, to help those who need it most through those cold, lonely nights. Isn’t that right, doctor?”

“So what about you, Wheein? What’s your color?” Yongsun inquires, half curious and half distracting herself from the implications of Wheein’s question.

Wheein sits back on her heels, tilting her head as she thinks. After a short while she admits, “I never thought about that before. I guess it’s white.”

“White isn’t a color,” Yongsun states plainly, grabbing her clipboard.

Wheein lets out a disappointed sigh, shaking her head, “I was afraid you’d say that. Well, think about it. In art, black is the absence of color, so naturally white is the very essence of color itself. That’s why prisms, for example, take in white light and reflect the rainbow. To me, white is every color combined. But to the world, it’s blank.”

Yongsun is equal parts captivated as she is off put. It’s an attitude she’s grown accustomed to in her line of work. Despite how potentially dangerous some people she comes across are, she can’t help but be a bit attached to each one. Wheein is no exception. There’s something so charming about the way her eyes light up as she speaks about this color, which she thinks barely qualifies as such. Or rather, she thought, until Wheein’s passionate explanation changed her mind.

However, her statement is nothing short of fascinating, and Yongsun doesn’t fight the smug grin that tugs at the corner of her lips. This is probably more insight than Byulyi could ever get counseling her, and to her knowledge, she’s the only one Wheein’s opened up to quite like this.

“Is there anything I can get you?” Yongsun asks her usual question, her lips lifted in a smirk.

“Another spiral sketchbook. I have a feeling this one will fill up fairly quickly.” Wheein says absently, turning back to her drawing.

“Sure thing.” Yongsun nods, turning to leave.

“Actually, there is one more thing,” Yongsun pauses at the sound of her voice, turning back to see Wheein’s bashful expression, “I wanted to go out to the courtyard later today. I was wondering if you would come with me.”

At this, Yongsun turns and raises a brow. Wheein never expressed an interest in going anywhere in the few months she’s been here. This is certainly a step in the right direction, so she wasn’t about to refuse. Plus, any opportunity to spend more time with Wheein was a good one in her opinion.

“Sure. Just let me finish my rounds and I’ll be back.”

*****

“It’s so warm outside,” Wheein points out with a smile, watching the last of the leaves fall from the trees. They walk along one of the numerous paths in the courtyard, flanked by fields of grass on either side.

“What do you mean? It’s not even fifty degrees out here.” Yongsun comments, gripping her jacket tighter. As if on cue, a strong wind blows past, the chill tinting her cheeks pink.

“No, not the temperature, the colors. They’re so vibrant and bright.” Wheein bounds ahead at a brisk pace, and Yongsun has to jog to keep up with her. On one hand, it’s completely endearing to see her so excited. But on the other hand, running in heels is no easy feat, especially on an uneven pebble pathway.

Thankfully, Wheein stops by a bench, and Yongsun takes the opportunity to rest her feet. Briefly, the doctor notices that they’ve reached a blind spot behind the building, where the windows can’t see clearly. Yonsun can’t help but stare as Wheein takes in the scene around them. Leaves fall from the trees in spirals, as if dancing atop the wind. Reds, oranges, and yellows, all seem to swirl around her in a coordinated display of beauty. The breeze blows through her hair, jet black locks now billowing past her shoulders. For once, the chill in the air doesn’t matter, allowing her to take in the subtle warmth the sunlight brings. Yongsun can’t help but think she’s witnessing an art piece come to life. It’s as if she sees the world as Wheein does, and--

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” Wheein’s inquiry is perfectly timed, a musing as soft and serene as the breeze. Yongsun can’t bring herself to question her intuition. All she can think about is how content she looks, and how her warm smile compliments the warmth of the colors that surround her.

“It’s perfect.” Yongsun responds softly, moving closer to her on the bench. The leaves have since fallen to the ground, but she can't let go of the image that just transpired. Quietly, she comments, “You looked like a work of art.”

“Really?” Wheein's face brightens even more, and Yongsun swears she sees a blush forming, “You really think so?”

“I know so,” Yongsun nods, validated by her reaction.

“That’s…” Wheein trails off, looking down as she says, “That’s the nicest thing anyone’s ever said to me.”

After a beat of silence, Wheein remarks, “Y’know what? I’m going to paint this. Is there a way you can get me some painting supplies?”

“What exactly would you need?” Yongsun sits up, taking out her phone to jot down what she says.

Wheein sits on the bench beside her as she adamantly lists various items, “An easel. Personally, I prefer the wooden ones. They feel more official or something, I dunno why. Let’s see, I’d need a couple canvases to get started. Some brushes, of course. I made sure to get as many different kinds as possible. And I’d need some paint. Acrylic is my absolute favorite, but oil is good too. And make sure the colors are warm, like these leaves.”

“I’ll get you every color if I can.” Yongsun muses, pressing her lips together when she realizes she said that outloud.

“Oh, you’re too sweet doctor.” Wheein chuckles, absently brushing against her shoulder

“I mean it. Every color, every brush, every canvas you need, don’t be afraid to ask.” Yongsun declares earnestly, and without thinking she leans in closer. A brief moment passes before her eyes widen in shock, realizing how close their lips are.

Wheein chuckles at her hesitation, hints of mischief in her eyes as she presses their foreheads together, “There’s no one out here, doctor, and no one can see us. Go on, kiss me.”

And Yongsun does, eagerly pressing her lips to Wheein’s. Instantly, she pulls the younger woman closer, running a hand through her hair. Wheein responds by wrapping her arms around her waist, making Yongsun hum in satisfaction.

No, Byulyi’s wrong. There’s no way this woman, who kisses her with such passionate fervor, can be a psychopath. Not Wheein. Not her Wheein.

* * *

There’s something so relaxing about watching Wheein paint. She works quickly, yet carefully, the strokes of her brush rapid and unbelievably precise. Like with her pencils, her movements are very self assured and deliberate. Unlike her pencils, however, there’s a sense of grace and delicacy that makes her so fascinating to watch. She’s completely in her element, and Yongsun has never seen anything more beautiful.

It’s a sight she’s grown accustomed to in the past week since she bought the painting supplies. In that time, Yongsun’s come to memorize the dexterity she has with her brushes, the delicacy with which she holds each one, and how attentively she adjusts the shades of paint to exactly what she needs. Part of her wants to stand behind her as she works, both hands on her waist as she paints.

“What’s your favorite color?” Yongsun remarks offhandedly, sitting in the chair at the desk. It’s the only way to keep herself from daydreaming.

“White,” Wheein replies, eyes not faltering as she works.

“Of course, your favorite color would be your color,” Yongsun quips, standing for a closer look. Just as she said, she’s painting the courtyard outside. She includes every single detail, from the lamps, to the trees, to the hospital in the background. She even paints pale swirls to signify the breeze under the falling leaves.

“You’re funny doctor, but I’m serious. Think about it. White is the total combination of all colors. That means there’s so much potential for possibilities. I believe every canvas has a rainbow lying within.” Wheein keeps her attention on her painting, meticulously creating bark on the trees to mimic picturesque detail.

A hush falls on the room as Yongsun watches Wheein paint. The patient switches brushes and moves on to the path, the same path they walked on last week. Yongsun can’t help but fall into a bit of a trance, the sound of her brush moving lulling her into a state of calm. She watches as Wheein fills in the details, emphasizing each pebble of the pathway with perfect accuracy. The doctor had forgotten the path was comprised of small rocks, but Wheein certainly didn’t, filling in each individual pebble with its proper shade. How she managed to remember all that is beyond her, but watching that type of flawless memory on display is beyond impressive.

“I started making some friends,” Wheein states plainly, breaking the silence.

“Oh is that right?” Yongsun blinks rapidly, snapping herself out of her trance, “What’re their names?”

“I can’t remember all their names, but I do remember their colors. At my table, there was a woman for each color of the rainbow. Except instead of orange, there was someone who was pink. They were all around my age, if not just slightly older. They had a lot to say about you.”

“Really? What did they say?” Yongsun presses, brows furrowing apprehensively.

“All good things, great actually. They all said you’re their favorite doctor. You’ve got a good reputation here.” Wheein notes, carefully adjusting the curve of the path. Thankfully, she doesn’t seem to notice how Yongsun suddenly stands up.

Shifting the discussion, Yongsun wonders aloud, “What color was your boyfriend?” Once the weight of what she asked sinks in she quickly follows up with, “You don’t have to answer if you don’t want to.”

Wheein pauses and smiles widely, turning to look at the doctor, “Now you’re asking the right questions, doctor. My boyfriend was green. Very optimistic, fun-loving. He cared for me, and I cared for him with everything I had. Honestly, it was too good to be true.”

Her strokes slow to a languid pace, as if her brush strokes become passive as opposed to the active attention she gave moments ago. She never stops, but her motions become haphazard and lethargic. There’s still a steady rhythm to it, like waves crashing against a beach. Yongsun feels locked in place, as if her heartbeat is linked to the perpetual swish of her brush.

Time seems to slow to a halt as Wheein continues, “Here’s another secret, doctor, something only I know. Your color is more like a canvas, and your relationships with others stain that canvas, as if they dyed a certain spot. For example, if you have family ties with someone, the stain resembles careful shading. With colleagues, it’s more of a scribble. Romantic relationships can form a wide array of patterns, but if your relationship is sexual in nature, the stain resembles paint splatter.”

“Alright, what does that have to do with your boyfriend?” Yongsun leans in a bit, fully engaged, “What did his stain look like?”

“Glad to see you’re paying attention. With my boyfriend, there was red paint splattered all over his bright, beautiful green. Red is the opposite of green, so it matched with him perfectly. It seemed he found the compliment I couldn’t give him. It was like Christmas.” Her top lip curls angrily at the thought, and with a small brush she briskly dots red over one of the green leaves. The bristles fan out at odd angles, distorted by the rough treatment.

“Did you tell Dr. Moon?” Yongsun questions, half making sure she’s opening up, and half wanting to shift the conversation away from this heavy topic.

“Of course,” Her anger melts away with a blithe chuckle, switching brushes to paint another leaf, “She seemed to get a little worried, when I told her that man was red. She must’ve thought I’d wanna kill her, or something.”

The patient goes from chuckles to outright laughter, making Yongsun back up half a step. Byulyi’s warning of keeping her distance becomes a nagging thought in the back of her head. The patient shakes her head, occupying herself with her painting, “I wouldn’t wanna kill Dr. Moon. She’s not the same shade of red. That man was more of a tomato red, while Dr. Moon is a crimson rose. And who doesn’t love a rose?”

“I’m no one’s complement, at least no one I would like.” Wheein laments absently before Yongsun has a chance to comment, grabbing a larger brush and moving on to one of the lamps.

“That’s not true,” Yongsun objects, “I happen to think you compliment me very well.”

“How so? No one puts orange and white together.” Wheein wonders, resuming her diligent pace.

“What do you mean? You just did.” Yongsun walks up to the painting, pointing out where an orange leaf basks in the white light of a lamp. The way she painted it, the leaf holds a bit of a glow, brightened by the incandescent bulb.

“Look at that. Look how pretty that looks.” Yongsun points out, turning to face the shorter woman. Softly, she caresses Wheein’s face, thumb pressed against her dimple. Wheein smiles and kisses her, a quick press of lips that leaves the doctor stunned.

“I guess you’re right, it is really pretty,” Wheein says, smirking when she takes in Yongsun’s surprised expression, “What’s wrong, doctor? You’ve kissed me before, quite a few times I might add.”

“That’s true, but I…” Yongsun trails off, looking down at her hands.

“You’re worried because I’m your patient, right?” Wheein hums, and Yongsun can’t do anything else but nod. There’s so much she wants to say, about how she feels and how much Wheein means to her, but the words get stuck on the tip of her tongue.

“You weren’t worried about that when you kept sneaking me snacks. Or when you bought me all these arts supplies. Anyone can that you care about me, and as far as I’m concerned, the rest is nobody’s business.” Wheein closes the gap between them as she speaks, placing her free hand on Yongsun’s waist and holding her close. The doctor inhales sharply at the gesture, but makes no move to push her away. Wheein’s right; people have started to notice how much time she spends with this particular patient. She’s always been able to deflect when people brought it up, but the amount of money she spent is hard to hide. Now, she avoids the subject altogether.

When Yongsun still doesn’t speak, Wheein continues, “For what it’s worth doctor, I care about you too. Thanks to you, I’m back to doing what I love, and I can’t thank you enough for that. Not only that, but you’re the only one I can really talk to in here.”

She grips her waist a bit tighter, lips ghosting over hers as she smirks, “I can really be myself around you.”

In the next instance, Wheein connects their lips in a kiss, humming softly as she presses against her. Yongsun seems to be brought back to reality at this, kissing her back with fervent affection. She pulls the younger woman closer, tilting her head as she deepens the kiss. The brush in Wheein’s hand falls to the floor as she arches into the doctor’s embrace, and she makes a sound of surprise as Yongsun grips the back of her thighs, lifting her up. Yongsun tightens her grip as she carries her to the bed, nipping softly at her bottom lip. Wheein’s back hits the bed softly as Yongsun puts her down, breaking their kiss for a moment to breathe.

“What if someone hears us?” Wheein questions softly, as if not wanting to obscure the moment.

“Skeleton staff. There’s barely anyone here this time of night,” Yongsun remarks, straddling her as she lets her white coat slide off her shoulders, “No one’s gonna be down here for a long... long time.”

* * *

 

Yongsun stares at the paper in Wheein’s hands, eyes widened in utter shock.

In her hands is a drawing of Yongsun against an orange background, specifically from when she had sex with Wheein last week. Every detail of her is perfectly represented, from her long brown hair, to the mole over her eye, to the outline of her abs. From the swell of her breasts to the curve of her hips, the drawing is completely and unmistakably her, and her heart pounds in her chest the longer she looks at it. The bottom right has the mark Wheein puts on all her work; a candle-like flame enclosed in a teardrop shaped bottle.

“What do you think?” Wheein asks excitedly, holding it up higher, “Dr. Moon wanted to see what I drew today.”

“No, Dr. Moon definitely won’t wanna see that.” Yongsun’s voice trembles with dread as she places the picture face down on the bed. She doesn’t want to think about what would happen if Byulyi sees this.

Wheein visibly deflates, sulking, “But she loves my work. You don’t think she’ll like it? I worked hard on it, and I’m really proud of how it turned out.”

“It’s not that she won’t like it. It’s just, well, it’s gonna bring up questions,” Yongsun states, her words clipped with unease. How else is she supposed to explain the obvious without completely spelling it out? Surely Wheein will pick up on what she means. She seems to pick up on a lot.

“What kind of questions?” Wheein purses her lips, as if speculating the answer to her own question.

“Well, first she’s gonna ask why you drew that. And she’s gonna ask how you know what I look like naked,” Yongsun can’t keep the exasperation out of her voice, running a hand through her hair in a frenzied motion. She’s always seemed to know things about Yongsun that the doctor herself never realized, so how could she not understand something as simple as this?

A moment passes before the patient’s face lights up in realization, “Oh! This is part of the secret.”

“Yes, exactly!” Yongsun blurts out, softly adding, “Dr. Moon just wouldn’t understand. No one would, really.”

Wheein nods, moving to put the picture away, “I get it, don’t show her this one. I’ll draw another one instead. A room from my childhood should show her some progress.”

“Actually, I think I should keep this,” Yongsun insists, sliding the paper towards herself and picking it up.

“I thought you didn’t like it.” Wheein raises a brow skeptically, “Why would you want it?”

“I just don’t want Dr. Moon to see it.” Yongsun says, smiling down at the drawing, “To tell you the truth, I actually love it.”

“Really? You mean that?” Wheein inquires hopefully, eyes brightening with elation.

“I do,” Yongsun tells her, not taking her eyes off of the picture. Truth be told, her attention to detail was really something to be admired. It looks almost photographic in its realism, showing a complete mastery of the medium. And the longer she looks at it, the more Yongsun realizes she looks...gorgeous. She never thought she looked that good naked. At least, not until Wheein’s exquisite drawing changed her mind.

“Is this how you see me?” Yongsun wonders, finally looking back at her lover.

“Yes. You’re really beautiful, doctor, and I wanted to do you justice.” Wheein’s voice takes on a hushed tone, bashfulness taking over.

“Well, I’d say you made me look even better,” Yongsun puts the picture down and sits next to her on the bed, “You’re seriously a gifted artist, Wheein.”

The younger woman looks away shyly, “Thanks doctor.”

Yongsun holds her chin and turns her head, pressing her lips to hers in a soft kiss. Wheein eagerly kisses her back, wrapping her arms around her. She leans back and all but drags Yongsun on top of her, prompting the doctor to pull back, “We uh, we can’t do that now.”

“Right,” Wheein presses her lips together, looking down, “Sorry, I couldn’t help myself.”

“No need to be sorry,” Yongsun assures her, kissing her cheek before asking, “Is there anything I can get for you?”

“Some nail polish, and nail polish remover,” Wheein requests, shifting from under her to sit up straight.

“Why would you need those?” Yongsun wonders, frowning in confusion as she stands up. To her knowledge, Wheein never expressed an interest in painting her nails.

“I like to paint with them sometimes. They look good on canvas,” Wheein clarifies, perking up as she continues to explain, “And if you use nail polish remover with it, you can smudge it in a way that almost looks like watercolor, yet with a bit of the fullness of acrylic. It’s beautiful.”

Yongsun, not knowing the first thing about art, takes her word for it. Instead, she points out warily, “Even if I could get that for you, they’ll probably be taken. They’re flammable.”

Wheein gets up and goes to her dresser, opening the top drawer. Reaching into the gap under the drawer, she pulls out a packet of peppermint chocolates, stating, “I can just hide them in here, with the rest of my snacks.”

“Are you sure that’ll work?” Yongsun asks, the skepticism in her tone mirroring the unease in her eyes.

“I haven’t been caught yet,” Wheein assures her, “Trust me doctor, it’ll be fine.”

Yongsun remains apprehensive, “Why should I do this?”

Wheein gives her a lopsided grin, chuckling as she steps towards her, “Doctor, you’ve done everything I asked up until now. You got me whatever I wanted, and went _way_ out of your way to make sure I felt comfortable. You even spent hundreds out of your own pocket to make me happy.”

Yongsun steps backwards away from her, sitting down once the back of her knees make contact with the edge of the bed. Wheein closes the gap between them, hands on either side of the doctor as she cages her in, “Why wouldn’t you do this one little thing for me, and make me happy?”

“Because it’s dangerous,” Yongsun retorts, scowling indignantly as she affirms her position, “And you’re gonna have to come up with a lot better than _making you happy_ to get me to break the rules like this. Give me one good reason that I should.”

Wheein leans in and whispers in her ear, a hint of a smile gracing her face, “Because I know your secret doctor.”

“What secret? What are you talking about?” Yongsun scoffs dismissively, leaning back and away from Wheein’s leering gaze.

“Shh,” Wheein puts a finger to her lips, a taunting lilt added to her voice as she says, “You don’t want anyone else to find out, do you? Don’t worry doctor, I won’t tell anyone.”

She kisses her cheek and chuckles, sliding into her lap and straddling her, “It’ll stay just between us.”

A short while passes as Yongsun looks into Wheein’s eyes, trying to figure out what the hell she’s talking about. Wheein tilts her head, one eyebrow hitched knowingly and making Yongsun shift uncomfortably. Surely, she doesn’t know about that. She can’t know. No one knows.

As if on cue, Wheein wraps her arms around the doctor’s neck, pulling her so close she can hear the pattern of her steady breathing, contrasting with Yongsun’s short, shallow gasps through her nose. Her heart races as Wheein remarks, “Yes doctor, I know. I know what you’ve been hiding. I know why you never tell Dr. Moon the full truth when you talk to her about me. I know why you spend most of your time with me instead of your colleagues.”

Wheein leans in and whispers against her ear, “It’s because I’m the only one who knows exactly what you’ve done. But that’s always subject to change.”

Unsettled beyond comprehension, Yongsun stares at her lover, eyes wide with anxiety. How in the hell could she figure that out?

“So I ask again, doctor,” Wheein remarks expectantly, settling in her lap, “Do you trust me?”

A beat of silence passes before Yongsun sighs, placing her hands on her waist “Alright, I trust you.”

* * *

Wheein started making a lot more art in the following months. She insists on being alone while she works, to the point where she snaps at anyone who dares interrupt her. But she never lashed out violently. These instances are merely short shouting matches that’re quickly resolved, so Yongsun adamantly advised against sedation or medication.

“Let me talk to her,” Yongsun insists on one of these occasions, waving away a nurse with a syringe. Tentatively, she knocks on her door, “Wheein?”

“Go away! I’m busy!” Wheein shouts from inside, making Yongsun shudder in surprise. She’s never sounded quite this irritable before, so to say she’s unnerved is an understatement.

“Wheein it’s me, Dr. Kim.” The doctor knocks again, imploring her to let her in.

Wheein’s tone goes from irritated to intrigued as she invites her in, “Come right in, doctor.”

Pressing her ID to the knob, Yongsun steps inside, marveling at the sight. A wide array of canvases line the wall under the window. Some detail the courtyard as it changed seasons, while others depict various abstract compositions. One collection showcases a color swap of an otherwise conventional scene, such as making the grass teal and the trees purple in a forest. The stack by the easel shows a house in the countryside, each painting showing a different part of the house. Every painting is marked with her signature in the bottom right; a candle-like flame enclosed in a teardrop shaped bottle.

“Wow,” Wheein’s voice draws her out of her riviere, and her lover stares at her in admiration.

“What is it?” Yongsun wonders, pursing her lips self-consciously.

“You changed your hair,” Wheein points out, putting the nail polish down and walking over to her. As if entranced, Wheein slowly runs her fingers through her hair, noticing the bright pink pallor of her now shoulder-length hair.

“I figured pink can go with orange, so why not?” Yongsun tries to remain nonchalant, but to no avail. She can’t deny how thrilled she is that Wheein noticed.

“It definitely does. You look absolutely gorgeous,” Wheein pauses and grins, inquiring with a coy lilt, “Did you do this for me?”

“Yes,” Yongsun admits, smiling widely, “I knew you would appreciate it.”

“I definitely do,” Wheein says, kissing her cheek before going back to her work.

Yongsun clears her throat, remembering why she came in, “I didn’t mean to interrupt. You were making a lot of noise, and people were starting to get worried.”

“They wanted to sedate me, didn’t they? Put me down like a wild animal?” Wheein wrinkles her nose, continuing to paint.

“Not exactly.” Yongsun tries to find another way to put it, tilting her head in thought.

“Don’t lie to me, doctor. You’re not good at it.” Wheein says firmly, not taking her eyes off her painting.

“Ok yes, they were thinking about sedating you, but I told them it wasn’t necessary.” Yongsun clarifies, hoping that detail would placate her.

Wheein smiles at this, nodding as she douses a cotton ball in nail polish remover, “I knew I could count on you doctor. You keep me safe.”

“Did Dr. Moon talk to you about the incident, again?” Yongsun changes the subject, sitting on the edge of the bed by Wheein.

“The Event,” She pointedly corrects, “And no, she seems to have changed her approach. She talks to me now about the future, and what I wanna do when I leave. That’s what I’m painting about right now.”

“What do you wanna do?” Yongsun questions, starting to relax a bit.

“I wanna have my own art gallery, a whole floor filled wall to wall with my work. That’s part of what all this is for. When I leave, I want to tell my story, the only way I know how. It’s part of what keeps me going.” Wheein explains, smudging some of the dried polish.

“Part? Well what’s the other part?” Yongsun pries expectantly, smugly knowing how she’ll respond.

“The other part is you, of course.” Wheein puts the cotton ball down, turning back to Yongsun, “You’re the light of my life.”

Yongsun blushes at this, biting her bottom lip. Even after all this time, she’s not quite used to Wheein’s extravagant declarations. Shifting a bit, she mentions, “Wait, what about your painting?”

“That can wait. This,” Wheein moves closer, wrapping her arms around the doctor, “Is far more important.”

Holding her in an intimate embrace, Wheein falls back onto the bed, pulling Yongsun down on top of her. Yongsun quickly gains her balance, bracing her hands on either side of Wheein’s head, “Wheein, we can’t do this right now. Someone might hear.”

“Please, stay with me,” Wheein pleads softly, pressing a kiss to her lips.

“Wheein, I can’t. I have to finish my rounds.” Yongsun tries to get up, gasping as she’s pulled back down.

“Doctor, I’ve never met anyone like you in my life. You’re the most beautiful ray of sunshine and you light up my world. Please, don’t leave me,” Wheein begs, wrapping her legs around Yongsun’s waist.

“I’m not leaving you, but I need to do my job,” Yongsun tells her, trying in vain to escape her embrace.

“Please doctor, I need you. I need you like I’ve never needed anyone in my life,” Wheein runs her fingers through her hair, kissing her once more, “Please stay with me. I love you, and I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

At this, Yongsun stops, eyes wide with shock. Her heart pounds as she takes in what Wheein just said, struggling to process the situation. It was previously thought Wheein was incapable of love, and here she is, declaring that she loves Yongsun. Any instance Yongsun felt unease around her fades into nonexistence, replaced with pure, unadulterated affection. The impulsive need to hold her returns, and she wraps her arms around the patient and holds her close.

“Please, stay with me, and only me. I love you so much.” Wheein whispers, lips ghosting her neck.

“I love you too,” Yongsun confesses, smiling as she returns the gesture.

Wheein loosens her grip a bit, letting Yongsun sit up. Instead of heading towards the door, the doctor straddles her, bracing her hands on her lover’s shoulders. Wheein smiles in pure delight and sits up, parting her white coat to expose her blouse.

“You know what I think about everyday?” Wheein inquires, slowly unbuttoning Yongsun’s blouse.

“Me?” Yongsun replies coyly, tilting her head.

Wheein parts her shirt enough to expose her bra, pressing a kiss to her breasts with each pause, “I think about the two of us, in a nice place in the countryside, with a fireplace.”

The soothing feeling of Wheein’s lips lulls Yongsun into a state of bliss, humming as she strokes her long black hair, “That does sound nice.”

“I couldn’t get that with my boyfriend,” Wheein shrugs, sliding her coat and blouse off her shoulders, “Money was tight.”

“And you think you can get that with me?” The playful lilt in Yongsun’s voice becomes more pronounced, excitement quickly taking over.

“You are a doctor, after all,” Wheein remarks, prompting a laugh from both women. The younger woman reaches around to unhook Yongsun’s bra, sliding it off and fondling her breasts.

“Alright, we’ll get a house in the country,” Yongsun agrees, noting how long Wheein’s hair got as she runs her fingers through it, “You’ll open up your art gallery, and I’ll keep doing what I love.”

“It sounds perfect, doesn’t it?” Is Wheein’s final remark before she puts her mouth to other use, wrapping her lips around Yongsun’s nipple. Yongsun’s eyes flutter shut as she hums in pleasure.

“It certainly does,” Yongsun sighs blissfully, stroking her hair, “Absolutely perfect.”

* * *

“Can I get you anything?” Yongsun asks her routine question, draping her stethoscope over her neck.

“Yes,” Wheein says expectantly, voice holding a grave severity as she requests, “I want you to get me a lighter.”

Yongsun’s heart stops for a split second as she stares in disbelief. There was sneaking around and breaking the rules, but this was something else entirely. Why would she even ask?

Wheein repeats herself, her words slow and commanding, “I want you to get me a lighter.”

“I can’t do that,” Yongsun refuses, shaking her head to dismiss the topic.

“So let me get this straight. You can break the rules to sneak into my room every night, but not to get me a lighter. It wouldn’t be any different from sneaking me extra snacks, or the nail polish.” Wheein ends her statement with a scoff of disbelief, brows furrowed in disappointment.

“Yes, it would. This is way more dangerous. Wheein I can’t do that, I’m sorry.” Yongsun continues to refuse, moving to the door. Seriously, how could she even _think_ to ask her something like that?

“You’ve done everything else up until this point,” Wheein reiterates, folding her arms.

“Because with everything else, it was easier to hide,” Yongsun frowns, “Even if I could get you a lighter, the alarm would be triggered, and we’d both be in trouble.”

“We’d both be in trouble if people found out what we do in here, but we’ve both kept quiet, so no one knows,” Wheein points out, “What’s the difference?”

“The difference is, this isn’t something you can just hide. I can’t believe I’m even having this discussion,” Yongsun lets out an exasperated sigh, grabbing her clipboard, “I’m not doing it.”

“Not even if it made me happy?” Wheein coos, tilting her head.

“I told you that’s not a good enough reason,” Yongsun snaps, adjusting her voice to sound less severe as she heads to the door, “For your sake, I’m gonna act like this conversation never happened ok?”

“You care about me, don’t you?” The harsh tone to Wheein’s question makes her stop in her tracks, and she feels compelled to respond.

“Yes, but--”

Wheein cuts her off, “You care about me a great deal, wouldn’t you agree? In fact, you’d even say you love me, right?”

“Yes,” Yongsun replies warily, brows furrowing ever so slightly, “I would, but not enough to get you something that dangerous.”

Wheein’s gaze turns icy as she remarks, “I wonder what would happen if Dr. Moon found out just how much you _love_ me.”

The doctor’s breath hitches in her chest, eyes widening, “You wouldn’t dare.”

“Oh don’t look so scared doctor, she doesn’t have to know. And she won’t know. But if you don’t give me a lighter, then...she might catch onto something, something she should’ve figured out a long time ago.” Wheein goes to her dresser and opens the top drawer, a stack of papers falling from underneath it. Wheein gathers the papers and throws them on the bed, and Yongsun stares in pure dismay as the stack fans out.

There are dozens of drawings in the pile, one for each of their intimate encounters. Every position they tried, every expression she had, all from Wheein’s perspective, as if her heated gaze in those moments of passion was actually a camera lens. Her heart lurches painfully in her chest at each picture, which accentuate every detail of their lustful endeavors perfectly. Each one is an unmistakable depiction of her, and each one has an orange background. Her anger melts into outright horror, her breathing reduced to shallow pants through her nose.

“I’d have to tell her how I know what you look like naked. How you would come down here every night, right when security is light, and have your way with me,” Wheein’s voice takes on a meek, almost pitiful tone, mirroring what she sounded like the first day she saw her. Wheein grabs a tissue from the nightstand and grips it tightly, tears forming as her lips begin to tremble.

“I’d have to tell her how you lured me in. How you made me fall in love with you, only to twist that love into something so sickening. How you did nothing but take advantage of me, knowing I wouldn’t say no. I trusted you with my life! How could you do this to me?!” Her cry quickly turns into a sob as she exclaims, and she grips her tissue so tightly it begins to tear.

“I would never do that to you. I love you.” Yongsun’s voice is indignant, yet the intensity is marred by a petrified tremble. It’s terrifying, to say the least, how easily Wheein can conjure such melodramatic sorrow on a whim, and how even now Yongsun wants nothing more than to hold her.

“Oh don’t give me that excuse. You saw me that first day, a complete crying mess, and you couldn’t _wait_ to get your hands on me. You don’t love me, Yongsun. You lust after me-- no, prey on me, like I’m just some toy to play with however you want.” Wheein sneers, the whimper in her voice replaced with a level of bile and disdain that makes Yongsun visibly recoil.

“How could you do say that? I’ve done nothing but care for you, and love you the way you deserve to be loved.” Yongsun tries desperately to defend herself, her hands mirroring the tremor in her tone as tears begin to form.

“...and love you the way you deserve to be loved,” Wheein mocks bitterly, rolling her eyes in mock disbelief before snapping, “How fucking stupid do you think I am? I figured out your game from the moment I met you. As soon as you laid eyes on me you wanted me. So you cared for me, coddled me, got me paint for fucks sake. You made sure I trusted you before you took what you wanted. It’s the same tactics you use with everyone you’ve had here.”

At this, Yongsun’s heart drops, her heartbeat pounding in her ears. She can feel the color drain from her face as she stares in utter shock. The frown on Wheein’s face slowly morphs into a smile, a sadistic grin that makes Yongsun’s blood run cold, “That’s right, doctor. Not only would I have to talk about how you had your way with me, I’d also have to tell Dr. Moon that this isn’t your first time doing this with a patient.”

Hearing her say that out loud makes it so much worse as the doctor finally grasps what she’s been implying all this time. Her heart pounds louder, the blood roaring in her ears, and she has to her will herself not to hyperventilate.

“I’d have to tell her how you treated me, treated all of us in this wing, like your little _victims_. How you preyed on our insecurities, telling us we’ll be alright, telling us we’ll be safe in your care, and then you do more than the world ever could.” Wheein snaps, ripping the tissue in her hand.

“It was only a few,” Yongsun blurts out, glaring to mask the shame on her face.

“Really? Does eight count as a few, or can we go into several territory?” Wheein taunts, tilting her head condescendingly, “You did say I had to tell Dr. Moon everything I can, right? That it’s the only way you can help me? I feel like this is important information, don’t you?”

In the midst of her rant, Yongsun gets the feeling that deep down Wheein’s being defensive, that she’s only belittling her this way to make up for being hurt. The fact that her care for her patients could so easily be twisted into a sick, predatory pattern of corruption, makes her feel sick to her stomach. She keeps her gaze low, eyes occasionally sweeping across the array of pictures on the bed.

“You look like you have something to say, doctor,” The cruel lilt never leaves Wheein’s voice, even as she calmly sits on the bed, “I’ve talked long enough. I’m all ears.”

“How did you know?” Is all Yongsun can think to ask, and she can’t bring herself to look into her lover’s-- patient’s, icy stare. She had assumed that her secret was well kept, but clearly not well enough. Who else might’ve picked up on it?

“I figured it out the first day I met you. I was wondering how long it would take for you to know I caught on.” Wheein rolls her eyes, and before Yongsun has the chance to respond she continues with a bitter sneer.

“Your color was stained with so much paint I couldn’t see anything underneath. There were so many different colors all over your canvas. The only color you seemed to be missing was white.” Yongsun gasps at this, tears flowing in hot rivulets down her face. The way Wheein made it sound, she was trying to complete some sort of collection, which is completely absurd. She never thought about equating colors to people before she met Wheein. Then again, it’s a pretty hard to write it off as coincidence. A viscous pool of guilt churns in her stomach as she considers there may be some truth to Wheein’s words.

Wheein’s smile widens, as if she delights in Yongsun’s distress, “Here’s where it gets interesting. While I was out making friends, I found the women who matched the stains. What really fascinated me is that we’re the only ones who’re both younger and smaller than you. Isn’t that interesting?”

“I…you were the ones who needed me most,” Yongsun tries pitifully to respond, coherent thought quickly escaping her, “I didn’t mean--”

“You didn’t mean what? You didn’t mean to prey on us, make a habit out of taking advantage of the most vulnerable ones here?” Wheein coos harshly, curling her lip in disgust, “What kind of monster are you?”

“I’m not a monster! You’re the monster!” Yongsun exclaims desperately, only to be shushed with a hand over her mouth.

“Ah ah ah, the skeleton staff isn’t out yet,” Wheein warns, raising her brows pointedly, “You wouldn’t want anyone to hear what’s going on, would you?”

Defiantly, Yongsun shakes her head, her vision blurry with tears. Instead of speaking, she settles for glaring at the patient, hoping her gaze is harsh enough to convey her discontent. Truthfully, she doesn’t know what her expression is saying. All she feels now is regret, for not heeding Byulyi’s warning sooner. The silence doesn’t last too long as Wheein moves her hand, changing the subject.

“Y’know, you remind me a lot of my lawyer. Her name’s Hyejin, Ahn Hyejin. Lovely woman. Her color is yellow, like a daffodil.” Her voice completely changes, as if she was talking about something mundane. As if she didn’t go on an angry rant moments before. Yongsun stiffens at the mention of her lawyer’s name, clenching her jaw.

“Do you know her, doctor?” Wheein leans in curiously, asking as if she already knows the answer.

“I did,” Yongsun forces herself to respond, “We haven’t spoken in years.”

“The breakup was that bad, huh? In any case, she was willing to do just about anything to make sure I was comfortable, just like you,” Wheein continues, and Yongsun shudders as she moves closer to her, “Admittedly, her methods involved far less pleasure, but were still quite effective.”

Their faces are mere centimeters apart, and the doctor can feel Wheein’s gaze burning into her skin as she speaks, “Interesting thing about yellows. They’re so vibrant they compel others to be the same. People are drawn to their brightness. It makes people want to comply, just so they can stay in that brightness a little while longer. They’re very persuasive people, and my lawyer was no different. She could convince you the sun was the moon. She works miracles, that’s for sure. She made sure I didn’t go upstate, or end up in the real nuthouse.”

Yongsun looks up in shock and quickly backs away from her, her back meeting the door in a matter of moments, “She got you off, didn’t she?”

“Not the way you have, if that’s what you mean,” Wheein lets out a spiteful chuckle at her spiteful joke before clarifying, “All she did was play on a technicality. I can’t be convicted if they can’t agree on my sanity, and I can’t be convicted over an accident. After that, it was just a matter of some convenient typos to make sure I ended up here.”

“Was it really an accident?” Yongsun inquires quietly, not trusting the sound of her own voice, and not taking her eyes off of Wheein as she inches closer.

“Of course it was,” The patient frowns, pouting slightly, “You don’t think I’m a liar, do you doctor?”

“I don’t know what to think,” Yongsun remarks defiantly, frowning.

Wheein shrugs and goes back to her bed, picking up a few of the pictures and examining them, “This truly is my best work, I must say. I think this should be the first exhibit in my gallery. Or sold to the highest bidder. Or kept for my personal collection. What do you think doctor?”

“I think they should be burned,” Yongsun mutters, frustrated tears running down her cheeks.

“Well that’s no fun, but I suppose that can be arranged. All you have to do is get me a lighter, and we can put this whole ugly business behind us. Dr. Moon won’t know anything, your secret will stay safe with me, and these pictures,” She waves the stack mockingly, “Will be as good as gone. It’s a shame really, to waste such glorious creations, but I’ll do anything for you doctor.”

The doctor pauses for a long while, weighing her options. It’s now infinitely clear that the woman in front of her is exactly as Byulyi warned; manipulative, cunning, and irredeemably cruel. But she holds her life in her hands, quite literally, so she sees no choice but to say, “Alright, I’ll get you a lighter,”

Wheein smiles that bright, cute smile, and Yongsun has to will herself not to react, “Perfect. Glad we could come to an understanding.”

Wheein moves closer and holds her face tenderly, kissing her the way she knows she loves. Reluctantly, Yongsun returns the kiss, letting her eyes slide shut as she embraces her. They pull back after a few moments, with Wheein kissing her cheek sweetly before she goes back to her bed.

“You’re the best, doctor,” She remarks happily before gathering the pictures, placing them back under the drawer.

A few more tears fall down Yongsun’s face as she leaves the room, the new task looming over her head. That woman in there wasn’t Wheein. Wheein just isn’t like that. Not her Wheein…

* * *

This time, when Yongsun makes her rounds to Wheein’s room, she’s nowhere to be found.

Frantically, the doctor runs from person to person, asking if they’d seen her. Everyone says the same thing; that the patient hasn’t been seen since late last night. She wasn’t in her room, or the rec room, or been to see Dr. Moon. Her mind races the longer she searches, worry slowly but surely morphing into panic. Where could she have gone? Was she ok? Why would she have run off?

In the midst of her frenzied pacing, Yongsun notices that there’s one place no one said they checked. Grabbing her coat, she makes her way to a closet and grabs a couple warm blankets, heading outside to the courtyard. It’s the dead of winter, and despite how cold she was to her the last time they spoke, she doesn’t deserve to freeze. Wheein is still her patient, and it’s her responsibility to make sure she’s safe.

It’s unforgivably frigid as she steps outside, her steps quickening as she walks along the path they frequent. The white lamps glow brighter against the ink black sky, reflecting off of the snow on the grass. The leaves have long since fallen, and the trees look like skeletons of their former selves. The moon barely glows, floating above her as an icy sliver of silver. The walk feels much longer than she remembers, but that’s probably because she doesn’t have Wheein by her side to pass the time.

She finds Wheein on the bench behind the building, right where the windows can’t see. The bench where they shared their first kiss. Shivering, Wheein flickers the lighter on and off at a haphazard yet steady pace, resembling the ticking of the clock.

“There you are,” Yongsun lets out a sigh of relief, rushing over to her. She wraps her arms around the patient and embraces her, letting her rest her head on her chest, “I was so worried about you.”

“You were right, doctor. White and orange is a pretty combination.” Wheein’s voice trembles as she speaks, clearly affected by the frigid chill.

Yongsun drapes the blankets over her, holding her close, “I was so worried about you. Are you ok?”

“Never better, doctor,” Wheein states, staring into the flickering flame, “Never better....”

“You…” Yongsun pauses before she demands, “What you did yesterday, that can’t happen again. You really hurt me, Wheein.”

“What’s your point?” Wheein replies absently, preoccupied with her lighter.

“People apologize when they hurt others, y’know?” Yongsun retorts, voice shaky with anger and hurt.

“Sorry,” She shrugs, in a voice so detached it sounds almost empty. It’s like she doesn’t care, and Yongsun starts to doubt if she ever did.

“This was a mistake, I’m taking that back,” Yongsun reaches for the lighter, only to be stopped by Wheein. One hand presses against her chest, pushing her back, while the other holds the lighter out of reach.

“Ah ah ah. Wouldn’t wanna get burned, would you doctor?” Wheein taunts, cocking her head. Reluctantly, the doctor relents, frowning petulantly.

“You reunited me with what I really love, and I can never repay you for that.” Wheein remarks, her smile shaky as her teeth chatter.

“Fire?” Yongsun quips in disbelief, “You can’t be serious.”

“No, not fire itself. Look at it.” Wheein holds up the flame for emphasis, “It’s living orange, with a pulse, and a temperature. Is that not the most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen?”

When Yongsun doesn’t answer, Wheein continues, an ever present grin lifting the corners of her lips, “I found out I loved this color so much when I was a kid. Our house had a fireplace, and I remember staring at it for hours on end. It was the first thing I drew. That’s why, when I was looking for a place with my boyfriend, I begged him to make sure we had a fireplace in our house.”

“Is that why you wanted to be with me?” Yongsun scoffs indignantly, “Because I remind you of a fire?”

“This flame is just like you. It’s orange, obviously, but you can see little bits of blue at the base. Deep down, there’s something so much deeper about you, something far beneath this dazzling surface. It makes you even more beautiful, if you can believe that.” That enthusiastic tone from before has returned as Wheein describes her color.

But this time, Yongsun isn’t falling for it. Instead, she rolls her eyes, grabbing her arm, “C’mon, we’re going inside. You’re gonna get hypothermia if you stay out here too much longer.”

“Not yet,” Wheein snatches her arm out of her grip, eyes still fixated on the flame.

“What do you mean, not yet? Wheein, you’re gonna get sick, let’s go,” Yongsun stands with her arms akimbo, as if scolding a child.

“I said,” Wheein snaps, a harsh gruffness added to her tone, “Not. Yet.”

“Fine,” Yongsun acquiesces, sitting back down on the bench, “Just a little while longer, and then we’re going inside. Ok?”

“Deal,” Wheein nods, holding the lighter closer to her face.

“I’m going to ask you something, and I want you to be honest with me,” Yongsun presses cautiously, “The Event. Was that really an accident?”

The wind howls in the distance, bringing with it a bitter chill, before Wheein responds, “I only meant to burn that god awful bed. I wouldn’t be able to sleep there knowing what he did.”

“Why burn it? Why not throw it out, or bleach it?” Yongsun wonders, more curious than angry at this point. The way Wheein’s mind works is fascinating, and now is no exception.

“Because fire has a way of purifying things, taking what once was, and reducing it to ash,” Wheein explains, placing the flickering flame between their faces. Yongsun tries to look past the fire and into Wheein’s eyes, but she can’t.

Wheein’s voice is low and somewhat detached as she continues, “I took the nail polish remover and started with the blankets, pouring the rest onto the sheets. At first everything was going fine, and it looked like I could start over and put his lapse in judgement behind me. But then he walked in.”

She flickers the flame off and on before explaining the role her ex-boyfriend played, “He started screaming at me, demanding to know what I thought I was doing. I thought it was pretty obvious, but I guess not. So I explained it to him. I couldn’t possibly sleep in that bed, knowing he fucked someone else in there. I had to get rid of it, and this was the best way to do that.”

“Did you?” Yongsun meekly interrupts, biting her lip before she suggests, “Did you get rid of him the same way?”

Wheein shakes her head, “He tried to stop me, so I had to get him out of the way. We struggled, but dropping the easel on his head seemed to do the trick. After that, I grabbed my lighter. The fire did the rest of the work.”

Wheein pauses and flicks the lighter on and off a couple more times, distracting herself from her oncoming tears. Yongsun knows it would be a bad idea to try and hug her, since there’s an open flame between them, but she can’t help feeling like she should. Her eyes look so sad and scared, as if she doesn’t fully grasp what happened next.

“The fire took my house from me. It took him from me too. Believe me, I was upset. But then I realized that fire has a mind of its own, and there’s no point trying to control it. You can only set it on the right path. I can’t deny; it did look beautiful, all that orange dancing freely,” Finally, Wheein flicks the lighter off, and Yongsun wraps her arms around the patient. Wheein seems to appreciate the gesture, leaning into her embrace.

“C’mon,” Yongsun implores softly, guiding her to her feet, “Let’s go back inside.”

This time, Wheein doesn’t struggle, letting Yongsun lead her back to her room. Once there, Yongsun slides into bed next to her, staying beside her to transfer body heat. She’s freezing, but Yongsun doesn’t budge, letting Wheein lay her head on her chest. Softly, she sings a lullaby, stroking her hair as she holds her close. After a short while, Wheein yawns, snuggling with her and whispering, “I love you.”

“I love you too,” Yongsun whispers, kissing her forehead with a smile. Once she’s asleep, the doctor tucks Wheein in, warmth rising to her cheeks as she exits the room.

Absently, Yongsun takes a piece of paper out of her pocket, unfolding it as she walks down the empty halls. It’s the first drawing Wheein made of her, after they had sex for the first time. She can’t help but grin as she remembers how earnest she was in capturing her beauty, how she literally lit up her world. She remains impressed by Wheein’s talent. The picture is so detailed and precise it looks like a photo, while retaining the charm of a drawing.

Squinting, she takes a closer look at the symbol on the bottom. The flame now makes an infinite amount of sense, but something seemed off about the bottle. After hearing her story, she still assumes it’s a tear, representing the sadness from losing everything. That would make sense, if the bottle didn’t look eerily familiar. She scrutinizes it further, stopping dead in her tracks as she realizes...

That’s no teardrop. That’s nail polish remover!

Putting the drawing away, she all but jogs to the exit, a sense of panic sweeping over her. She doesn’t know what to do. Part of her wants to barge into her room right now and confront her, but she knows that won’t end well. Part of her wants to call the police, but deep down she truly doesn’t want to see her locked away.

She knows she can’t handle this on her own, and in her mind, there’s only one person she can go to about this.

Taking out her phone, she sighs heavily before dialing Hyejin’s number.

* * *

Unease slows her steps as Yongsun steps into Wheein’s room under the pretence of follow up. Her checklist of tasks runs through her head, blocking out all other thoughts; take the lighter, take the nail polish remover, and go.

Wheein puts her sketchbook down and greets her with a smile, that oh so cute grin that makes Yongsun’s heart skip a beat, “Oh I wasn’t expecting you. You already checked on me today.”

Yongsun tries to ignore that, stepping into the room, “How are you feeling?”

Wheein’s smile instantly fades, her gaze turning cold, “I thought you were done being a whore.”

Yongsun is literally taken aback, backpedaling half a step, “What the hell are you talking about?”

“Your color is stained with yellow,” The patient observes bitterly, “Like a daffodil.”

Of course Wheein would know that. Why did she think she wouldn’t figure it out? Taking a deep breath, Yongsun quickly composes herself, “I’m here to make sure your body temperature is normal after last night. What I do outside of work isn’t any of your business.”

“Except when you told me you wanted to be with me, and only me. But you just couldn’t help yourself, could you?” Wheein sneers, narrowing her eyes. Yongsun can’t deny that her comment cuts deep, but now, she’s not going to let it interfere with her job.

“I need you to open your mouth,” Yongsun instructs, taking a thermometer out of her pocket and slipping a cover on top. Falling silent, Wheein complies, opening her mouth enough for the doctor to press the metal end to her tongue. Once she closes her mouth, Yongsun waits for a moment for the thermometer to beep, promptly removing it once it does. Her temperature is normal, and she didn’t seem to exhibit any symptoms of hypothermia. From a physical standpoint, there’s nothing wrong with her.

Their eyes meet when she throws the cover out, and Wheein flatly asks, “You wanna know what he did? What he said during his final moments before I finished what I started?”

“I thought you didn’t kill him.” Yongsun backs away, her tone accusatory and betrayed, “You told me you were innocent, and I believed you.”

“I didn’t kill him. The fire did. I just let it happen,” Wheein shrugs nonchalantly, standing up and heading towards the doctor. Yongsun knows she should run away, run and do what she came here to do, but something about Wheein’s stare pins her feet to the floor. She does take note of the nail polish remover on the bedside table, subtly inching towards it.

“He cheated on me doctor, and then had the nerve to claim that _bastard_ was his boyfriend, that I was the mistress. We had a life together, and he just threw it all away for him. Like I didn’t matter.” Wheein’s voice takes on that melancholy tone as she laments, and for a moment, Yongsun actually believes she’s upset.

“Do you have any idea how that feels? To be lied to like that? To know that your entire life is based on deception? To be disposable?” Wheein grabs the lapels of her white coat, eyes gleaming with distress. Instinctively, Yongsun throws caution to the wind and wraps her arms around her, holding her close. She tried to hold herself back, but she just couldn’t help herself. Even now, knowing everything she knows about Wheein, she wants nothing more than to comfort her.

“The thing I hate, more than anything in this world,” Wheein’s voice shifts drastically, eyes brimming with rage as she looks up, “Is being someone’s fucking mistress!”

Yongsun cries out in bewilderment as she’s swung around, and in the next moment her back meets the bed. Panicking, Yongsun struggles against her, reaching for the help button. Her hand is slapped away as Wheein grabs her by the neck, her other hand pinning her wrists down. The doctor continues to struggle, but is stopped as Wheein straddles her, gasping as she feels Wheein’s weight on her stomach. The patient laughs an unsettlingly deep laugh, a dark glint in her eyes as she tightens her grip on her neck, “Skeleton staff, doctor. You said it yourself if I remember. No one’s gonna be down here for a long, long time.”

Yongsun gasps for breath as she feels her airways constrict, clawing at Wheein’s arm to try and get her to let go. Wheein continues with a cruel lilt, “I didn’t knock him out with an easel. Truth is, doctor, I held him down just like this before I prepared him for the flame.”

Grabbing the bottle, Wheein douses Yongsun in nail polish remover. The cool sting of acetone makes contact with her skin, and Yongsun cries out in panic as the sharp chemical smell floods her nose. She manages to throw Wheein off, wincing as she falls to the floor with a thud. Coughing, Yongsun gags as the acetone fumes floods her sinuses, the acrid taste settling on her tongue. She leaps for the door, only to be stopped by a hand on her ankle. Sharp pain shoots through her jaw as her chin makes contact with the floor, her hands cushioning the rest of the fall. Wheein advances on her again, dumping the remnants of the bottle onto the back of her coat.

Before Wheein has the chance to ignite the lighter, Yongsun kicks her leg harshly, sending it flying across the room. Scrambling to her feet, she chases after it, only to slip on the puddle of acetone on the floor. She keeps going, clawing at the wood floor as she crawls forward, determined not to let Wheein grab it. The lighter is just in reach, just barely brushing against her fingertips, before her hand is stepped on. She shouts in pain, trying in vain to reach out with her other hand as Wheein picks it up.

“Think about it doctor. Once all this is said and done, no one would want a doctor who sleeps with her patients,” Wheein’s voice is frighteningly calm, her thumb toying with the lighter, “If anything, I’m doing you a favor.”

Flicking the lighter on, Wheein tosses it, watching as it lands on Yongsun’s white coat. She lets out a shrill scream of pain as intense heat makes contact with her skin. She sheds her coat and tosses it at Wheein, racing to the door. A hand on her wrist stops her and yanks her back, shoving her to the floor. She screams, louder and sharper this time, as she lands on her elbows in the middle of the flame.

“Was I not enough for you, doctor? Is anyone ever enough for you?” Yongsun can barely hear her taunts, rolling in an attempt to douse the flames. The fire alarm trills with a harsh echo, pounding in her head. The fire quickly spreads to the rest of her clothes, and her limbs become engulfed in the harsh orange flames. The worst sting she could ever imagine courses through her, heat flaring with a pulse that rivals her heartbeat. Her screams resound louder and louder as she feels her skin bubble and blister, and she desperately tries to grab Wheein, who keeps moving just out of her reach.

“Oh by the way. I remember you wanted these burned,” Wheein belittles her one last time, throwing a stack of papers into the growing flames. One lands next to her, and she sees a representation of her naked body turning to ash within moments. She watches as the paper shrivels up and falls apart, resembling the skin on her arm as it burns.

After a while, the pain begins to disappear, an absent numbness taking its place as her hair is set ablaze. She can’t do much else but cry, too weak to move and too exhausted to scream anymore. She collapses onto the floor, breathing harshly as she feels smoke take the place of air in her lungs.

“It’s so beautiful,” She hears Wheein mutter, and between the flames she sees tears welling in her eyes, “So beautiful…”

As Yongsun’s cries fade into nothing, Wheein stares into the flames in total fascination. She doesn’t blink, not wanting to miss a single moment. Her tears continue to flow, but she makes no move to wipe them away, gaze transfixed on the fire.


End file.
